Captured
by Alima8314
Summary: Ed and Roy are in a dungeon. Why? I don't know. But they'll figure it out just as soon as I do. Please, R&R! I need ideas on how to continue! This story totally feels like a round robin waiting to happen. No spoilers.


**Captured **_(working title)_

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, nor am I affiliated in any way with the copyright owners of Fullmetal Alchemist. Fullmetal Alchemist's story and characters are copyrighted to Hiromu Arakawa and the various companies who produced the manga, anime and merchandise.

* * *

**A/N:** Almost everything I write, I write at work. I do not think I should be allowed to write when I am sleeping at my desk. Please R&R! I want to continue this, but I don't really know what I want to do next!

* * *

There was a warm body next to him. Who was it? He couldn't quite remember. He opened his eyes. The room was dark. He could hear the rhythmic breathing of whoever was in the room with him. "Nnnn..." a tortured moan was all he could manage. He closed his eyes against the pain.

"Colonel Mustang...?" a voice cut through the crimson haze.

"Nn..." again was all he could mutter. His throat felt like it coated with sandpaper. Almost as soon as he thought this, he felt cool drops on his parched lips. He tried to open his mouth to grant the needed moisture entrance, however, he was so dehydrated that he couldn't.

"Colonel..." that voice again. He knew that voice, like drops of gold, cold as steel, landing on his ears as wet fingers massaged his lips. "You need to drink. You can't die..."

He opened his eyes again, and was only just able to make out the dim figure hovering over him. "Who...?" he croaked as coolness trickled ever-so-slowly over his tongue. "Where?"

"It's Edward, and I don't know where we are. I just woke up myself."

He tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down. "You shouldn't move. You got really hurt before we got... here..." the youth sounded uncertain.

"More... water... please..." he requested, and was slowly given a couple mouthfuls of the precious liquid. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Not really. There was an explosion, and... I guess I blacked out..." the teenager shifted his position on the stone floor. "Do you remember anything, Colonel?"

Mustang screwed his eyes shut, trying to dredge up any memory. "I think... There was gunfire... I remember running toward something red... Then a hot pain in my leg, and an explosion."

"Yeah, you got shot. I did my best to stop the bleeding, but I don't have enough to work with. Plus, it's hard with only one hand. I'm sorry," the young blond apologized.

"Don't worry about it, Fullmetal," the dark-haired man smiled weakly.

"Are you... are you hungry? There's a tray of food..."

"What? So then, are we expected guests?" he asked while listening to the youngster scuffling in the darkness. He took this time to absorb his surroundings. Inhaling deeply, he noticed a moldy smell, mixed with an earthy undertone. Lifting his head as much as he dared, he tried to penetrate the gloom with his gaze. It was dark still, but his eyes were quickly becoming adjusted to it.

Just where were they?

Laying his head back down, he looked up and saw faint lines of light, some distance up. "Fullmetal, do you think you could transmute something to get us out of here?"

"I wish I could, but whoever put us in here also took my arm. And there's nothing to write with..." the teen's voice came from the other side of the room.

"Oh..." that would be a drawback. "Wait, that means..." the older alchemist gasped, rubbing his hands together. "My gloves..." Who was holding them, and why? "Fullmetal!"

"What?" the youth asked, almost spilling the tray he had precariously balanced on his hand.

"Am I still bleeding?"

"Maybe a little. Why?"

If I am, I want you to draw a circle with my blood. That might help to get us out of here..."

"Uhhh... okay. I didn't think about that," the younger alchemist sheepishly admitted, setting the tray down next to the colonel's head. "I tore my jacket up to use as bandages. If I tear some off, new blood should flow."

"If you only have one arm at the moment, how did you tear your jacket up?"

"I used my teeth to hold the cloth and ripped it with my left hand. Stupid Colonel," the teenage alchemist explained as he took a hold of a makeshift bandage and prepared to remove it. "This might hurt just a little..." he quietly warned.

"Fullmetal! I've just been shot! I don't think it can hurt much than it already does," he snapped.

"Uhhh... right... Here goes," the guy violently jerked the blood soaked cloth away from the wound, reopening it. "Sorry Colonel."

Despite his earlier assurances, the colonel still grunted.

Ed knelt next to Mustang, preparing to draw a circle with the older man's blood "I don't feel comfortable doing this Colonel. It's one thing when I use my own blood, but this is..."

Roy stared at the ceiling, absorbing what the teen said. "I understand. But, right now, it's the only choice we have."

"I'm sorry," Edward muttered, his hand hovering over the freshly opened wound on his superiors thigh.

Roy smirked, "I didn't think you'd be so squeamish. It's only blood, Edward. It's not going to hurt you. Now, hurry before it dries again."

Ed huffed and scowled at Roy, his golden eyes flashing with an anger that was visible even in the darkness. "The blood might not hurt me, but what if the alchemy does? It's the possibility of a rebound that I'm afraid of."

Roy's face softened. "I see your point. Just try. I believe is will work." He nodded. "Part of alchemy is faith that it will work out. It's all in our heads. Believe, kid. We'll get out of here somehow."

Edward looked at the blood on his fingertips before hastily drawing a crude circle on the floor. "What should I transmute?"

"A ladder... or something... See those cracks up there?" he pointed up.

Edward's gaze followed the direction of the man's finger. "Yeah, I do."

"See what they are."


End file.
